The Circular Smile
by CschMan20
Summary: [One-shot] Due to a little push, Naruto finally asks Hinata out and tries to cultivate a relationship with her.


The Circular Smile

* * *

Anticipation shook through her fingertips as she gazed at her door. There was a rattling in them that had persisted for the better part of the evening despite her constant need to gain some kind of control over herself. The air around her was stifling and seemed to escalate her shaking with every passing minute. The more she tried to assuage her worries, the more she felt herself unravel into confusion.

Hinata was trying to predict the future. She had always been so amazed by how the brain could do that―how it created unrealistic expectations that somehow allowed it to cope. Within her dizzy mind, those fanciful flights of thought circled around the room and dreamt of what was to come. Would it go well, she thought. Would he want to go further this time? The second date usually didn't hold certitude of anything past a simple kiss in her experience, but there was something rather unpredictable about Naruto's tendencies, especially in the way he handled himself in the presence of others. There was no guarantee any of her fantastic assumptions would stand to reason before the all-encompassing fate of the hero and his grand effect on humanity, not even counting the weight of the whole of reality added to the equation. She wondered if that interesting personality of his surprised even him sometimes.

When the knock on the door finally came, Hinata felt like she was waking up from a nap, as if she was being pulled to the surface from inside herself by an invisible hand. Her fingers continued to convulse as she approached her apartment door and opened it.

He was garbed in an orange jacket over a clean collared shirt, not too different from what he wore the other night, but it was a little chilly out that night, so she dismissed the slight wear of the jacket and smiled hopefully at him.

Naruto smiled right back, and she felt all her nervousness disappear in an instant. "You look great," he said.

"Thank you very much," she added. She thought her indigo dress was quite eye-catching herself, but she was never one to brag.

A glorious surge of confidence was pumped into her veins as he held out his arm to her, a sensation she was still a little unaccustomed to even after overcoming her stuttering and anxious behavior (for the most part) years ago. "Wanna get some dinner?" he asked as if this had been an impromptu meeting and she hadn't been spending the latter half of the day preparing for the feeling he gave her when he smiled at her.

She took his arm gratefully and nodded. It was one of those loose evenings―where the weight and air of the night felt so gentle and quiet that a person was bound to forget about it the next day. And true to form, if Hinata were asked to describe the walk to their date that night, she would have sworn she didn't even remember walking at all. It felt more like flying.

* * *

There was electricity in the air, a kind of buzzing energy, as Hinata glided through the streets towards her home. She couldn't believe it had actually happened, and so soon! She had been dreading the worst (which was not uncommon for her and was unlikely to ever be a trait she would lose any time in the near future) and was half-surprised, half-thrilled by his proposition. She felt a warm giggle in her throat as her feet fluttered across the dirt-paved road. It seemed funny to call it such a formal term in her mind―a proposition; it was something so much more significant and wholesome than that. She had the whole conversation of the date on reel, the events shuffling not in perfect sync, but in that addled, misaligned way the brain recorded events and tended to play them back as if it all fit perfectly together.

After they had finished their dinner and the majority of the inconsequential small talk had passed between the two of them, Naruto had directed the conversation in a particular topic.

"Do you ever feel lonely, Hinata?"

Clearly, she was, but she had been rather startled by that abrupt question and looked at him quizzically.

"Sorry," he had said with a sheepish smile, "I didn't mean to jump you like that. I just can't help but feel a little like half of a person these days."

She had nodded, her body jolting forward a little too quickly. Empathy had a way of being forced out whenever there was sincerity present, especially when it was unexpected. "Oh, of course. I understand the feeling, I guess."

"Do you really?" His eyes had betrayed his desperation, and she couldn't hide she had empathized with that, too. He had appeared to be struggling internally with something, something that had carried that desperation as if it were an old burden―the kind a person suffered through for the sake of ambition and rarely ever discovered a place to release it. His mysterious behavior had raised her curiosity, and it probably would have stuck regardless of whomever had maintained it; however, she hadn't been holding the highest of expectations in that moment.

"I do," she had admitted after realizing he had been waiting for an answer. "I really do."

"Good," he replied, his eyes widening with emotion. "Sakura told me how you feel."

Hinata's head had turned up to him with such force she thought her neck had snapped. "What?!"

He had shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "Yeah, she said if she didn't say anything, then nothing would have happened."

Her face had felt like it was burning. She knew Sakura had been correct; the two of them would never reach a conclusive discussion by themselves. It wasn't exactly his fault either because of her unsteady self-confidence. Her insecurities had been stabbing their sharp talons into her flesh for her whole life, and it wasn't like his straightforward approach had somehow healed her. No one could expect that to happen. Still, she was relieved they were finally having this conversation.

"I don't know much about love, Hinata," he continued. He had scratched the back of his neck and had clearly been rehearsing this before they got there. "To be honest, I haven't given it much thought at all. I think I might have loved Sakura at one point, but I think I let go of her a while back. So―" His words had tripped as he caught the look in her eyes. He must have seen something there he hadn't anticipated. In that still moment, Naruto leaned forward across the table and peered into her. "So I think I know what I want now."

That had really done it. The next words out of his mouth consisted of something she had always dreamt of, ever since she was a little girl hopelessly interested in a young boy running and yelling about becoming the leader of the village. And as Hinata reached her door later that night, with the blissful stars winking at her along the way, she could feel the floating sensation begin to gain substance. She was so elated, her vision looking beyond into a future where she was filled with warmth. This was it. He was hers.

Unbeknownst to her, (something even slightly unknown to _him _at the time) a smooth, cruel fact had swam its slippery way past the truth during the evening, and it wasn't until it was revealed with such merciless momentum that she realized her ignorance: he hadn't meant any of it.

* * *

The next few weeks passed by like a hazy dream, a wonderful dream where time wasn't really measured or even acknowledged. It was difficult for Hinata to focus on other matters when there was an unmistakable happiness within her. Her mind kept jumping back to him, even when they were apart. She couldn't imagine getting used to a person to the point where you actually _forgot _about them, especially when it was something so intimate.

He was amazing, simply put. He was so considerate and kind all the time. If there was something he said holding even a hint of negativity or critique regarding her, then he would immediately correct or apologize for it with sincere vehemence, and she would usually proceed to melt into a puddle of giggles over it, leaving him in a relieved, puzzled state. She liked that face he made whenever that happened. Hell, she liked just about everything about him. He talked so much, and she appreciated that because she was such a quiet person. She didn't really like drawing attention to herself and always preferred listening to others and their differing opinions. She wanted to always come across as understanding and genuine, and, well, Naruto made her feel that way. He kept promoting the idea she was a great person, and even though she usually responded meekly, she was delighted.

She wanted to be with him all the time. There was this odd form of hunger in her when he wasn't around, (sometimes it would even linger when he was present) and it kept distracting her from her regular life, as if she was missing a great part of her being and there was a promise somewhere in the man that he could help her find it. Of course, he hadn't really promised that, but it _felt _like he had, almost like that had been the agreement all along. A few times during that short interval of bliss, however, Hinata caught a small sense of wariness from him. Not a strong feeling exactly, no, it was more like an instinctual reaction she was receiving. He sometimes tended to dismiss her a little too quickly, a little too prudently. He didn't always seem to be as eager to spend time together as her. Obviously, no couple possessed a mutual, unbending strength of such things, but it still gnawed at her thoughts a little. To the best of her ability, she instead chose to focus on how wonderful he was. Doing that always seemed to help.

Naturally, matters didn't continue to proceed in the most positive direction for her. They rarely did. Hinata knew humans messed up. She felt she was a core example of humanity's issues with the world and that the constant struggle was never really going to end even if happiness collapsed so carelessly and elegantly upon her like it was a lonesome feather drifting down from a tree branch. But what happened after was something that startled her. It broke her, in fact, and it seized too great a part of her heart. She was cursed to many sleepless nights of rumination and self-pity because of it, and the worst part, the absolute worst part that tore into those sacred, tender pieces within her, was the powerless feeling she was never really able to conquer.

It all happened one night a few weeks after the start of their relationship. Hinata was over at his apartment that evening, after having asked him a couple times that day if she could come by. He was making dinner when she arrived and was happily surprised to see it wasn't some cup ramen.

Naruto kissed her cheek after she stepped through the doorway next to the kitchen and promptly returned to the steaming pot over the stove. Hinata had been over a few times already, and she was starting to feel as comfortable in his home as she did in her own. She looked around the main living area adjacent to his open kitchen and considered how tidy it was.

She turned to him with a smile, noticing the adorable thoughtful frown he was giving the cooking pot. "What are you making?"

He didn't look up from the pot as he answered. "Curry. It's actually pretty easy and not too bad as far as fancy dishes go."

She giggled as she approached and hugged him from behind. "I wouldn't call curry _fancy_, but I appreciate you taking the time."

His face softened, but the frown on his brow was still there. "It's almost done. Could you set the table for me?"

She smiled and nodded while she reached for the cupboard where he kept the dishes. "Did you see Shikamaru finally proposed? Have you gotten an invite for the wedding yet?"

Naruto stopped stirring the pot and placed his hand in a small bowl, pinched some salt, and sprinkled it into the food. "Yeah, he said he'd tell me more about the wedding party a little later."

Hinata carried some plates and silverware over to the little table on the other side of the room. "You think he'll make you a groomsman?"

"Pretty sure."

She eyed him curiously. His face was concealed mostly by the steam from where she was standing, but she could still see how troubled he appeared. A lurid, deformed sensation brushed the inside of her like an insect's ribbed legs skittered against the splintered planks of a wooden shell. Her fingers flipped a lock of her hair from her eyes. "Well, let me know if you hear anything more about it," she added. "I already told Temari I'd help her plan, but if you could just mention the same thing to Shikamaru for me, I'd appreciate it."

She saw him rub his temples slightly before he answered with a grunt and a nod. She didn't like how uncomfortable she was in that moment. He was barely acknowledging her, and that spiked her insecurity―that self-doubt that came creeping back no matter how mindful she was of ignoring it. It would never leave her alone, it seemed.

"Are you okay, Naruto?" she asked.

He finally looked her in the eye. She saw his hesitation. It was stepping over his other emotions, attempting to mask them, but she saw all of them battling one another for a moment to express themselves. Perhaps she had always been trying to do the same thing.

Naruto walked over to her, leaving the pot on the stove at a simmer. When he was close to her, he grasped both of her hands and held them. She gazed up at him, alarmed by the intimate approach. His eyes were downcast, and she could see the conflicting emotions much clearer now. She couldn't exactly pinpoint everything she saw there, but she was rather sure she noticed a tinge of a purer shade in his face―something remorseful.

"Hinata, I need to talk to you," he said, staring at their clasped hands. "I think I've done something terrible to you."

Her eyes widened, and she involuntarily squeezed his hands. Even in this swift moment of confusion, she managed to express concern for him. "What are you talking about?"

A fearful cloudiness overtook his countenance and darkened it considerably. Her concern rose, and she wondered what awful circumstances (or doubtful thoughts) had brought him to this point. "I can't keep doing this. I can't keep lying to you like this. This whole time, I've…" He trailed off and turned away from her.

She raised one hand up to his cheek, caressing it with delicate care as if it were a sleeping infant unaware of the tragedies of the world. "It's all right," she replied, "you can tell me anything." She wanted that to come out as reassuring, but even she could hear the reservation in her voice.

He stared back at her, agony etched against his features. He swallowed and slowed his breathing in an attempt to calm himself. He was forcing himself along, she realized all at once. And he further proved that point when he admitted: "We have to end this, Hinata."

Hinata could feel the energy, all the invigorating static that had been such a well of hope and promise, begin to liquify and seep into the newly-formed cracks of the words he had just spoken. Such things were fickle, and she was only truly aware of that then. Much later, after the truth had been given time to rest and heal, she would understand this a little clearer, but for right now, she felt the strands of her heart split apart.

"You've been amazing," he continued, "I need you to understand that." He dropped his hands from hers. She didn't care to hold them anymore. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen." He hesitated and scratched his head in irritation. "Shit, I'm really bad at explaining this. Look, I just...made a mistake. I was trying to figure something out, _us_ out, I guess."

She understood that much. She tried to comprehend all of it, truthfully. Sympathy, especially when it came to him, was something she wanted to master. Dating was always a trial run, she knew that, but being with him had never felt trivial, so she never viewed it as something like that. Was she supposed to? Was this sudden pain because of her or because of his mistake?

"I don't think we're as compatible as I had hoped," he said. "And that's not your fault, Hinata, I don't want you to think that. You've been so nice, and I think you're wonderful, but to be with you romantically just doesn't feel right. I don't think it ever did."

She shook her head. "But...it was all going so well," she confessed, her words sounding frail and pointless to her. "I don't understand where this is coming from. Things have been _so _good."

Pure guilt broke across his face, and he brought his hand up to rub his neck uneasily. "Sometimes, I'm really good at pretending everything is okay, like I'm even lying to myself. I guess it's sort of like denial but worse, maybe. I know I can't keep doing that―for your sake and for mine." He shuffled his feet and considered them thoughtfully. "But you really have been great. I don't know if that softens the blow at all."

"It makes it worse actually."

"Oh," he said unhappily, a shameful groan escaping his lips. "I see."

He paused, waiting for her to say more, but she was stuck in a horrible restlessness, overthinking the situation and trying to make sense of it. The past few weeks had been fantastic. She had been drawing to a revelation―the kind that suggested a stable future. She hadn't said she loved him, but she had been close. And somewhere in her heart, past the boundaries where even the conscious self couldn't deny anything, she knew she was already there. He was a constant person in her life, and her feelings were unlikely to ever change. They hadn't even had sex, (despite a few nights of advancement neither of them would discredit) but there was an intimacy between them that she was so sure of, that she was so acquainted with. How could this have happened? How could she have been so misled?

Naruto sighed and stepped a few feet away from her. His shoulders slumped as if he couldn't seem to find a comfortable position for them otherwise. "I believe we rushed into this too quickly. I should have been more careful, but Sakura had told me about your feelings and, well, I felt obligated to respond to them."

Her eyes stung, and she hurriedly covered them with her hands. An odd sense of anger cut through her._ Obligation? _Had he been acting solely off something as self-serving as that? No, not him. There had to be more; there had to be a noble reason behind all this. Somehow, though, she knew that wasn't true.

He probably saw the growing animosity in her because he sighed again and blinked sluggishly at her like he just lost a battle he hadn't even fought in. "It felt like a good decision at the time," he revealed quietly. "I still think it _was_ a little bit, even if it meant this moment was inevitable, but I never expected for you to be as into me as you are. I liked it. I liked how your entire face lit up whenever you saw me, how you would drop everything for me when you had to. That kind of affection was really nice, so nice that I think it was why I didn't even want to communicate my doubts with you." He regarded her then, his bright eyes taking in her pitiful expression. "But that's why this is coming as a shock to you, huh?"

She nodded slowly. "Yeah, you really fooled me."

He grimaced, looking like she had just stabbed him. "I didn't mean to. I had good intentions; I swear. I'm just not used to this. Girls and relationships are so foreign to me." He ran a hand through his messy hair―the same hair she had relished gliding her own fingers through while they had lounged on his couch in the darker hours of the night. She tried to remember the last time she had done that; it was probably the last time she would do that again. "But maybe that's a lame excuse. Maybe I'm just avoiding the fact that I've been leading you on...leading us both on, I suppose."

Seeing how guilty he was brought about a wave of compassion she wasn't expecting. She could be angry later, she decided. All of the shame and gathered apprehension he had been building up in his heart over the small course of their relationship was pouring out all at once, and she had to be mindful of that. Even as her hopeful expectations were being brutally shredded, she couldn't bear to see him suffer. She loved him too much for that.

"And you're sure about this?" she asked. "This isn't something you need to think about more? I know you can be impulsive sometimes."

Naruto's jaw became rigid, and she was disappointed to see the determination glittering in his eyes. "I'm sure. I really have thought a lot about this."

"Oh," she said. It was all she could respond with. She wasn't sure what to say anymore. Then again, everything she had said that night had been teeming with trepidation and regret. It was clear he had said his piece, and there wasn't much more he could add. She surmised this was probably the part where she was supposed to leave. But what the fuck was she going to do? What if she thought of something later she had wanted to ask him and missed her opportunity? An awkward, tense moment was starting to lengthen between them, but she couldn't leave yet; she didn't want to say goodbye.

The silence in the room went on for a long time, so long that the both of them had sat down on the opposing sides of his couch at some point in the evening. At one point, Naruto returned to the kitchen and turned off the stove, the memory of a promising dinner slipping away into the folds of some idealistic future. He shifted his feet uncomfortably. She knew she had overstayed her welcome, had probably driven him insane with the silence, but she couldn't run away from a moment where she felt like there was still a modicum of hope. Despite that, she knew any chance of repairing what was severed was gone already.

Finally, she resolved herself and stood up, the dread percolating into the depths of the place where her boundaries were―where they were starting to crumble. "Well, it's getting late," she said. "I guess I should go."

Naruto nodded, his eyes focused on the cooking pot in front of him. "I guess you should."

Hinata steeled herself against the flood of misery she felt hearing him say that; it was so forthright, almost dismissive. She pushed past the kitchen and headed for the door, leaving him and the curry to cool. After she stepped onto his stoop and closed the door behind her, she could hear the irrevocable click of the lock behind her, and that's when she knew it was over.

* * *

She ran home that night. She hadn't cried at all (though she had been very close a few times) when they were sitting in silence earlier, but she wept now as her legs pumped with as much force as she could muster, the hastened pace of her steps launching her farther away from him. It was late, and there was hardly anyone out. Hinata was thankful no one saw her, so she could grieve the only way she knew how.

There was a pleasant breeze blowing from the south―one that came sweeping across the village with a swift, rudimentary force meant to bring balance back―and she might have appreciated it under different circumstances, but there was nothing to appreciate that night except for maybe how fast her legs kept moving. As the apathetic path before her sailed across her vision, she was bombarded with all the wonderful memories of the past few weeks. What had once been seen as sweet, joyful moments were now being discarded as points of heartbreaking agony for her psyche. Every time he had smiled at her―every time he had looked in her eye and displayed how happy he was to be around her had been a lie, a falsehood even he had allowed himself to be privy to. Then again, it hadn't been completely his fault; she had made a mistake, too. She had believed him.

Hinata stopped next to a building not far from her apartment and leaned a weary hand against its structure. She breathed heavily and sobbed into her other arm. The massive guilt he had presented to her earlier was what really burned the edges of her eyes. He had been holding it all in, expecting for there to be some kind of divine intervention where it was shown how honorable he was for enduring it all. Maybe she was putting too much on him there, but she was sure he was thinking he had done the right thing. He wouldn't have done it otherwise. But that only made her miss him more. He was a good person. She knew that, but she didn't want to let him go.

Up above her, a lonely meteor scraped along the hard slate of the night sky, and she was met with the company of the other lights there. Somehow, recognizing their gleaming selves brought a sliver of comfort to her, as if they were paying attention in their frozen spots. She rubbed her eyes and recalled a night where Naruto had taken her out to star gaze. Back then, the stars had seemed different to her than they were now. They weren't trying to do anything then but dazzle her, and she supposed that might have been the problem all along―she had wanted to be dazzled, to be overwhelmed by her desires. And the cycle circled by her at astonishing speed then. She wanted to bargain with another chance to do it over again; she wanted to wallow in her depressed state, to also rage against his foolish actions and the cruel reality he had succumbed to, but most of all, she wanted to isolate herself from the pain. She remembered how he held her hand when they watched and laughed under the starlit sky, how they had wished on frivolous things, and that was when she surrendered to the decline of her limits. She gave in.

When Hinata finally returned to her home, she wasn't sure of the time. Such things had an odd way of becoming sadly insignificant under the more nuanced scenarios of heartbreak. She stumbled into her room and fell upon her mattress with no sense of grace. She gazed at the single fluorescent light above her as it glowed dutifully, bathing her bedroom in a yellow, sedated mood. Maybe matters weren't meant to work out in the end, she thought. The sensibility of her actions was something she could half-control, half-observe with the feeblest of attempts, and she couldn't be expected to do more than that.

Hinata grit her teeth and threw a punch into her pillow. She couldn't allow some people to get away with it all. They got what they wanted, so why did they get to prance about and act like there weren't any issues? Like there wasn't some kind of fucked up situation existing behind every smile and every good intention, laced with the sweet promises of opportunity. Because there was truth within the suffering―a kind of debased faith. She _knew_ everyone suffered. She knew people endured the harshest of blows with only the revelation that they would continue to do so until they perished. But it didn't make it any less lonely to her. He had been so kind and so brutal at the same time. She supposed there was mercy in the fact that she was given such a chance to experience it because there wasn't another one like it. It was all unique and good in the long run. It was so full of potential, a beautiful moment for someone to make a choice and become engulfed by the intensity with absolutely no relief of doubt or sense of certainty, and she wasn't ever going to get such a miracle again. So maybe life wasn't about receiving miracles.

She laughed bitterly at the little light bulb above her. No, it wasn't. Life was more than the false promises it somehow gave. Her eyes grew heavy as she made a terrible connection there, the type that tended to make people sink even deeper into their cynicism: life had never promised anything. It had never said she would be happy, so why did she keep expecting for it to bring her there? While it hadn't promised anything to her, it also hadn't asked much of her either. And that was enough, she realized. That was enough for her to keep moving―to keep believing things wouldn't fall apart. Her eyes shuttered delicately, and she subtly hoped tomorrow wouldn't be as bad.

Despite her melancholy, Hinata did manage to fall asleep that night. And somewhere, far beyond her own capabilities of perception, an ashamed, worn man believed in the same notion that the morning might bring better tidings.

* * *

**I just have to clarify here that this was not meant as a bash fic towards NaruHina. I'm actually a big fan of the pairing, as I am with most of them, so please don't think I sat here writing this with a gleeful smile on my face. I simply wanted to try making a sad ending. I haven't really written a fan fiction with one in it yet, and I felt like getting experimental. I know this isn't to everyone's tastes, but sad endings, ones that leave me feeling conflicted, happen to be my favorite ones. So, I wanted to recreate that feeling I love so much myself. **

**I hope you liked it.**


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